


Of Dreams and Fate

by cathybites



Category: Van Helsing (2004)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-20
Updated: 2011-04-20
Packaged: 2017-10-18 10:04:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/187740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathybites/pseuds/cathybites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To forgive and forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Dreams and Fate

**Author's Note:**

> Part of [Yuletide Treasures 2004](http://www.yuletidetreasure.org/); for Croik.

He dreams of the earth covered in fire and ice, of rivers overflowing with blood and tears running uphill into a sky blackened with rage, of a despair so great that it steals the breath from newborns and strangles the old in their sleep. He dreams of terrors unimaginable and of beauty so great that it burns the flesh from his bones. The screams of the dying shatter the air with their lament and underneath it all is one voice as smooth as silk that spears right through him. It creeps into his ears and slithers into his mind and whispers its sin into his soul.

 _Gabriel._

~~~

A priest is sent in every day to hear his confession. Every day he admits his guilt and asks for his punishment; every day the priest frowns and leaves. He wonders how long this will go on for; then one day it stops and Valerious is standing at his cell door, looking down at him grimly.

"I have been informed that you are asking for charges to be brought against you."

"Yes."

"But why, Gabriel? You have done no wrong."

There might have been a time when such a statement would have angered him, but fire has gone from him and he merely shakes his head. "I've committed the most grievous sins."

"Everything you have done has been for the Order. There is no sin in doing the Lord's work."

He thinks of dark eyes staring up at him in surprise, of a hand that reached out to him even in death, and of the guilt and sorrow that threatened to devour him whole. "There is no forgiveness either."

For a few moments, Valerious says nothing, just stares at him with narrowed eyes. "It is not our place to question how the Lord works, or why He sets us to certain tasks. We can only accept the fate that He has given us, no matter what it may be." He kneels down and lays a hand on Gabriel's shoulder. "It is what needed to be done."

A dwindling spark that still survives within his heart causes him to scream, "He was your son!" and small satisfaction is gained from the expression on Valerious's face. The satisfaction quickly dissipates as a voice whispers in his mind, _and what was he to you?_

Valerious stands, mouth drawn in a tight line, and says, "The Church and the Order have forgiven you for whatever sins you think you may have committed. Pray for forgiveness, Gabriel, but you only need it from yourself." He nods his head curtly in farewell and leaves.

Gabriel listens to the retreating footsteps and when they fade away completely, he rests his head on folded hands and prays instead to forget.

~~~

He dreams that he is in a forest in the wintertime, and although the ground is covered with snow and the wind blows fiercely, he feels no cold. Instead, it's as if sunlight courses through his veins and he feels like he could light the world with the golden glowing feeling inside of his body. It makes him feel bouyant, effervescent, and he leaps into the air with sheer delight from it all. When he lands, he hears laughter and someone shouting his name. It comes from everywhere and nowhere and he spins in a circle trying to pinpoint the voice. Dizziness overtakes him and when he falls to the ground, defeated, a boy darts out from behind a tree to his left. He's tall and lanky with dark hair flying about his head and when he smiles, it's like the world comes to a standstill. The dark-haired boy says, "Gabriel, come with me," and walks towards the other boy, his hand outstretched.

Gabriel reaches out to him and when their fingers entwine, he feels the chill of winter in his bones.

~~~

It's not a surprise when Valerious returns the next day. He stands outside the cell door and rests his head against it, his fingers curling around the bars. His hands are slim and elegant, almost feminine, and Gabriel is reminded of a similar pair of hands, the fingers ghosting over his skin. The memory of them is sharp and painful, like jagged metal sliding across his thoughts, catching and pulling at his mind. He shakes his head violently, trying to dislodge the memory, and claws at his temples when it doesn't leave.

"Gabriel," Valerious says, concern in his voice, "why do you continue with this?"

He doesn't answer, just turns his head away from the door and stares at the wall. It's marked with scratches; only six are from his own hand. Six marks for the six days he has been here, waiting for judgment that never comes.

"You cannot punish youself like this; it is not your place to do so!"

"Then what is my place?" he mumbles.

"Your place is in the Order, doing the Lord's work."

He snorts at that and curls up on the floor, waiting for Valerious to leave. It takes a few minutes, but the other man finally leaves and Gabriel is alone with his thoughts.

~~~

He dreams of springtime and a mountain covered in green. Flowers spring from the ground as he walks along a winding path, and the sky is such a brilliant hue of blue that it seems unnatural. There's a gentle breeze and birds sing brightly above his head. He smiles at a lark perched on a low branch in a yew tree. He reaches out to touch the bird and it chirps once before flying away. His hand brushes against the leaves of the tree and from behind him, someone calls his name,

"Gabriel,"

and he turns to see a dark-haired youth grinning at him. His face is familiar, tugging at a name hidden away in the dark corners of Gabriel's memory. Gabriel's hands itch to touch him, to gather his identity from the smooth lines of his face, the curl of his mouth, but he holds them still. Instead, he asks, "Who are you?"

"You know me well enough, as well as you know yourself."

"I only seem to know myself now that you're here."

The youth smiles slyly at that, his eyes dark and glittering against his pale skin, and he walks towards Gabriel. "If I were to tell you my name, you would only forget it as soon as I left," and suddenly he's at Gabriel's side, mouth to his ear. "You would forget me."

"I'd sooner forget myself."

A low chuckle rumbles against his ear and Gabriel shivers. He looks up and dark clouds are gathering overhead, blotting out the blue of the heavens. "A storm is coming," he says.

"I think you are right." Then chilled lips brush gently against his cheek and he is standing alone on the mountainside, watching the world fade into grey.

~~~

"There is talk of heresy."

He raises his head at those words. "Heresy?" he asks and Valerious nods.

"They say you question what you have done, and in doing so, you question the will of the Lord."

Ten marks on the wall now and his fingers are caked in dirt and blood. He thinks about what Valerious has said; he thinks about heresy and rolls the word against his tongue and imagines that he can taste it, the copper-slickness of the letters melting in his mouth. It burns and singes and he can almost be satisfied with it. "Then if you won't find me guilty of my other sins, find me guilty in that. I need you to do this." He looks into Valerious's eyes, expecting to find anger or frustration; he sees pity instead.

"It will not happen," he says, and Gabriel is surprised to hear disappointment in Velarious's voice that mirrors what is in his own heart. "The needs of the Order outweigh yours. You will not be charged, and you will not be held accountable for what has happened."

"Then I will not be forgiven."

Valerious shakes his head and for the first time in ten days, Gabriel weeps.

~~~

He dreams that he is standing at the ocean's edge, icy waters crashing at his feet. The sky is grey and desolate and every breath he takes tastes like salt, like tears and sweat and shattered souls. He supposes that he should be cold but all he can feel is emptiness.

"Have you forgotten me yet?"

Arms slide around his waist and he leans back into the embrace. "Have you forgiven me yet?"

"Is that how it works? I forgive you and you forget me and we suffer through eternity apart?"

He wants to say that's not how it will be, but he knows better; he says nothing instead.

"Well, it does not matter. Tomorrow the Order will have you back, one way or another."

He tries to turn at those words but the arms tighten around him. "What do you mean?"

"You prayed for forgiveness, and when that did not come, what did you pray for?" The words are hissed, and they burn where they land on his skin.

"I...I asked to forget."

"You will, my dear Gabriel. You'll forget, but will that be enough? Will you be at peace without my forgiveness?"

Gabriel grabs at the arms holding him. The skin is slick and whether it's from the spray of the ocean or something else, he does not want to know. "I will," he says.

Cold laughter bounces off the ocean's waves like steel against steel and the sound rings in his ears, nearly deafens him. "We shall see, Gabriel. We shall see."

~~~

The clang of the door opening wakes him and Valerious is standing over him. "Gabriel," he says, "please, come with me."

"And if I don't?"

"You do not have a choice," Valerious says, moving to one side, and Gabriel sees the soldiers standing in the hallway. He smiles wanly and rises to his feet.

"I suppose this is the fate I must accept for myself."

"It is for the best."

"And ordering the death of your son?"

Anger flashes briefly in Valerious's face, but he only says, "The Lord's work must be done." He places a hand on Gabriel's shoulder on guides him out of the cell.

~~~

He dreams of the earth covered in fire and ice, of rivers overflowing with blood and tears running uphill into a sky blackened with rage, of a despair so great that it steals the breath from newborns and strangles the old in their sleep. He dreams of terrors unimaginable and of beauty so great that it burns the flesh from his bones. The screams of the dying shatter the air with their lament and underneath it all is one voice as smooth as silk that spears right through him. It creeps into his ears and slithers into his mind and whispers its sin into his soul.

 _Van Helsing._


End file.
